


Icterine - Lazuli - Ube

by Mad_Dream



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ages All Over The Place, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, End of the World, Fantasy, Gen, M/M, Multi, Science Experiments, Science Fiction, rated T for now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9247223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Dream/pseuds/Mad_Dream
Summary: "Amidst fallen kingdoms and shattered realms lost to the sea, there lies a world just beyond the Reach. Through the woods, across the fence, down in the cellar of a forgotten tomb, and locked behind wood there you will find the bloom of Icterine, the light of Lazuli, and the crown of Ube. Here is the end. Here is the curse. Here--is the key to unlock your beginning."Humanity has been drowned out by the wave of melting ice caps and uncontrollable temperatures, leaving the world with sparse land that's remotely habitable. The last program to preserve a safe house for humanity, the Reach, has succeeded in creating safe land for humans...by invitation only. All that the Reach stands for, however, is changed when a boy, Viktor, left for dead is smuggled into the borders. While the Reach's inhabitants keep an eye on their newest addition, Viktor's curiosity leads him and his guardians beyond the Reach's fences into secrets left for dead. But the dead are more than awake, and ready to invade the last of humanity.





	1. Prologue

_"Hold your breath. No matter the pain, hold your breath."_

The words sung in his head until it bled through his ears; the rhythm long forgotten, the trill of warmth run cold, and the words thrumming louder than his own heartbeat. He was no longer the song, but a part of it. And that, to his dismay, was even worse.

He could hear his heart beginning to slam painfully against his chest at the shadows growing thicker and darker around him. The boy curled his legs closer until his knees were tucked under his chin. He ran the words through his head louder than before, training his eyes on the sliver of light that slithered through the door crack. The light pink rays mingled with gold before him. Yet as the beautiful array of light began to wane towards the ground, the boy’s heart began to hammer once more.

_"Won't you hand over your wings and promise me you will never fly?"_

His nails bit into the flesh of his knees. Sweat crept down his back into the tattered strips of his gown. The rough scrape of shriveled, mangy fabric grazing his back became the only comfort he had. He clenched his eyes shut, imagining the gown’s brushes to be a wholesome, warm hand. The imagined hand curled into an arm, radiating warmth that became alien to him for the past year. And with that warmth came the familiar curl of lips, chapped, yet rosy all the same, mouthing stories without names against his forehead. Tears silently pooled at the corners of the boy’s eyes and he clenched them harder.

_“Beat and scream against the sky until the world falls down.”_

The boy slowly opened his eyes again. His breath caught in his throat as the light stood but three inches above the ground. Heat wrinkled behind the boy’s eyes before his vision grew glassy. He sucked in his bottom lip and buried his teeth into the flesh, digging deeper with each moment the shadows began to devour the light.  
Every fiber of his body burned for him to move. His muscles twitched and jerked, silently begging him to bury his self deeper in the closet until he molded into the wall. Yet he remained still. His tears racing down his cheeks as the last swirl of gold went out.

_“Hold on. Hold on. Hold on to your breath.”_

The boy’s tears stained the collar of his gown at the hushed footsteps falling outside the door.

_“No matter the pain, hold on with your very breath.”_

The gears of the lock clicked.

_“You who bear no wings or heart against the shattering sky—can you, can you, hold onto your—”_

The boy’s scream was lost in his tears as the man lifted him from the debris of wood. The tears dripping from his trembling face plopped onto the ground that was infested by ice instantly. From that day on, he never stopped screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)


	2. The Day Winter Came

“How are man eating plants the least of our problems?” Yakov all but bellowed into the receiver. A chorus of sighs rang out from the two way radio and in the dimly lit kitchen. Yakov pinched the bridge of his nose and huddled closer against the corner of the wall as if it would hide his conversation. “Look I have enough on plate already with these plants _and_ I’m off duty. Whatever it is I’m sure you can handle it.”

“I wouldn’t be calling you if I could handle it!” The man said. “It’s not just the dead flowerbed Kelton delivered that’s the problem. The committee had to step in too. They’re demanding my supervisor come in and you’re the closest to supervisor that’s available.”

Yakov ran a hand over his face, his fingers inching to turn off the call the more the other rambled on. Wafts of the freshly baked bread drifted from the kitchen, taunting his nostrils with the promise of warmth to fill his grumbling stomach. To be able to have fresh bread was a miracle that came once a month along with the dim lights that flickered overhead. To pass it up once was bartering with the chance of never having it again. A feeling Yakov knew all too well.

“For the last time no! By the time I get there, the storm is going to be to ghastly for me to get back home. I won’t—”

“Feltsman they found a body!”

The air in Yakov was punched from his lungs. He quickly cast a glance over his shoulder at the two children tiredly stirring their spoons in their bowls. Yakov rounded around the corner into the next room. He lowered his voice and asked, “How?”

“I don’t know. They’re interrogating Kelton now since he was the only one closest to the edge of the borders.”

“Bull crap. Kelton doesn’t have a single murdering bone in his body.”

“I know, but the body…i-it’s a kid.”

Yakov rubbed his temples, cursing lowly under his breath. His free hand clenched the fabric of his shirt over his heart. His mind ran through piles of reports he would have to fill out on top of bearing witness to the body itself if he left. “When do they need to do the autopsy?”

“T-that’s…why they need my supervisor.”

Yakov arched a graying eyebrow. “What?”

He could hear the other man hold his breath. A muffled movement of shuffling filtered through the receiver until the man’s voice came out to silence everything in the bunker. Despite all the horror that Yakov had witnessed, the next words that pierced through his ears would haunt him for the rest of his life.

_“The kid’s alive.”_

* * *

The metal stairwell creaked beneath Yakov's feet until he nudged the door open. The door groaned along its hinges as it swung out into the vacant main floor of the silo. His footsteps echoed like thunder among the foyer. He skimmed over the lonely benches strewn in front of the gathering podium in the corner of the floor and the small station built into the back of the far wall where the watchman stood.

The watchman idly traced his knife onto the post, brushing aside splinters that curled along his carving when Yakov cleared his throat. He paused his carving to glance over the edge of the post. He grinned at the wore down boots twinkling in the lantern light.

“Feltsman.” Alain said. “This has to be a new record. The boys are already driving you up for air?”

“I wish that were the case.” Yakov said. “I need to head out.”

The watchman flinched, his hand jerking to the side and dragging an abrupt line through the wood. He grumbled under his breath before ogling the man. Alain’s eyes grew wider as he took in the standard dark green coat of cultivation unit and hat tugged delicately over his head.

“You do realize that there’s a storm about to hit in a matter of minutes right?” Alain asked.

Yakov was aware. With the arboretum situated the furthest from the safe houses, along border of the Reach, it would take 20 minutes walking to reach it. And only 10 for the storm to strip him of his flesh. Yakov shrugged. “I’ll just have to be faster.”

Alain leaned over the post, dangling over the edge. “Feltsman, I won’t be able to let you back in when the storm's breathing down your neck."

"It'll rip my head off if we talk any longer."

Alain sighed, rounding around the post towards the front of the foyer. Despite the small spaced hovel tacked together with wood, the daunting metal door sealed shut with bolts reminded them of the world they really lived in. Alain set his hand on the wheel sealed onto the wall.

"You know, you can always say that your watchman wouldn't let you out." Alain rapped his fingers along the wheel.

"Leroy."

Alain frowned before twisting the wheel. The door's gears clicked and whirred, sliding the bar of the lock to the side. A red bulb began to flash overtop the door with an earsplitting screech. As the door crept open, a wave of frosty air nipped at Yakov's face. Yakov blinked as if the wind backhanded him, pulling his scarf over his face.

"Be careful out there." Alain said.

Yakov nodded at him and stepped outside. With the door of the safe house beginning to close, the man set off down the path. His boots splashed into puddles of watery dirt along the strip. Yakov cursed under his breath, speeding up his pace as the air grew heavier with the scent of wet earth...and something else. He wrinkled his nose. Storms weren't uncommon in their Reach, but the air has never been a chill as it was that night.

Yakov shook his head. He kept his eyes on the lone lantern in the center of the safe houses. The Reach's flag, a set hands grasping one another, flapped wildly, snapping at Yakov's sprinting frame. With the safe houses and workshops disappearing behind him, Yakov let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding as beads of white light twinkled below him. Yakov slowed to a jog outside the boarded facility and banged his fist on the door. A strip of metal slid along the door with a pair of bloodshot eyes staring through the peephole. The peephole shut and the door flew open. A single drop of water plopped on Yakov's cheek before he stomped in.

 _Just barely_ , Yakov thought, his fingers trembling as he undid his scarf. _Just barely._

The man fumbled with the locks as Yakov's heart ceased hammering against his chest. "I think the one committee member wanted to arrest me for knowing nothing. Honestly I think they want to pick a fight with anyone." 

"Can you blame them?" Yakov finally responded.

The other man sighed heavily. "Point taken."

Yakov shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto the spare table. "What did they do with Kelton?"

"They took him to their quarters a while ago. Said they'll be back after the storm to talk about the breach."

"Speaking of."

The man sagged against the door. His brows knitted together at Yakov and pushed himself off the wall. Yakov followed him out of the room into the hallway. Trees towered winded over the edge of barriers and down the walls, the array of budding leaves glinting lights from overhead. Yakov glanced at the healthy glow of varying shades green running down the hall while the man dragged his hands down his face.

"I was going through the flowerbeds when I noticed Kelton's were off. Not just not flowering, but reeking. I was digging one of them up to see if there was a parasite or something when I saw parts of the kid." The man shuddered. "Kelton started crying about how he didn't know the kid was there, but orders are orders. After the committee took him away, I was cleaning the kid up. He was beat up pretty bad. It's amazing how he even lived before being buried so deep in the flowerbed."

Yakov hummed in thought. "Where is he now?"

"I left him in the herbs room. Thought he needed some color after being buried."

"You thought just looking at some colorful herbs was going to magically heal him?"

"There wasn't supposed to be a  _him_ at all!"

Yakov rolled his eyes as they turned towards the herbs room. He squinted through the grime speckled window into the room, a soft blue glow washing over the herbs stacked into rows through out the room and the child curled up near a tray of white lavender. Yakov's lips pressed together into a firm line.

"How has the boy been dealing with all of this?" Yakov asked.

The man winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hell if I know. He hasn't said a thing since I pulled him out. He's probably more in shock than the rest of us combined." Yakov pinched the bridge of his nose and reached for the handle when the man placed a hand on his wrist. "I think it might be better if I go ahead first. Don't want to spook him."

Yakov gestured towards the door as the man carefully slid it to the side. He watched the man practically tip toe into the room, forcing a smile to his face as he spoke to the boy. Yet the child hardly acknowledged him. He gently trailed his fingers down the side ivory petals of the lavender almost as if he were in a trance while the man squatted next to him. After some soft murmurings and whispers, the man jerked his head for Yakov to come in. Yakov moved towards the center of the room until he towered over the two of them.

"Alfalfa. Hey, Alfalfa," the man said, trying to draw the boy's attention away from the lavender.

"Honda, what are you calling him?" Yakov asked.

"Well, he I pulled him out of bed of alfalfa, so the name kind of fit." Honda said sheepishly. "Besides I asked him if I could call him that he nodded."

"He's not a pet."

"Well I couldn't just keep calling him 'Hey' or 'You' could I?"

Yakov ignored the sharp retort brewing on his tongue and glanced at the boy. A large blanket draped itself over the child's shoulders. The child turned his head towards him, his gray hair tangled with soil flopping over his face. His lone eye peered through his tangled locks and almost made Yakov have to shield his own. Despite the dark smudges of dirt still smeared across his cheeks and the black rings running below his eyelids, a blinding pool of azure gazed up at him while the other stayed closed. Yakov felt his skin prickle and his hair stand on end at the rush of air that whirled through the room. The longer he stared at the boy, the colder the air sank into his bones.

"Good grief," Honda said, rubbing his arms. "I thought I set the radiator of medium." Honda scrambled to his feet towards the door, his voice carrying back to the room as he fumbled with the keys of the radiator. "Feltsman, you won't believe this!"

Yakov let out a silent sigh of relief when the boy turned his attention back to the lavender. He cleared his throat to find his voice again, shouting, "What?"

"The temperature outside's dropped to 15 degrees! 15!" Honda exclaimed, twisting the knobs to the radiator. "I've heard about this only in reports! Have you ever seen anything like it? I didn't think this was possible in the Reach!"

 _I've lived through colder,_ Yakov thought with a grimace. He knelt down beside the boy and asked, "Do you have a name boy?"

The boy froze his caressing of the lavender. He tugged the blanket closer around him, staring at the tips of his toes that poked out from under the blanket.

"The floor won't give you an answer." Yakov watched him curl closer into the blanket and sighed. He rose to his feet when Honda stumbled over his self, his grin twisted with excitement and restrained horror.

"Feltsman it's incredible! We've  _never_ had the Reach go through this before. It's like a...a...oh what's it called?" Honda rambled.

"Winter." Yakov said dryly.

"Yeah! Winter. I never thought I'd see that in my lifetime. June 25, 2132, the day winter came!" Honda said.

Yakov was honestly surprised he didn't explode from the way his excitement poured from every pore of his being. He was about to move past Honda until he felt a tug on his pants leg. Honda's excited speech hitched in his breath along with Yakov's as they ogled the boy holding onto him. The boy's lips parted, a garbled gurgle rising from his throat. His brows scrunched together, forcing broken sound after broken sound from his lips. Honda cringed, ready to sprint towards the medical kit until the boy murmured something under his breath.

"What was that?" Honda asked softly.

The boy dropped his head against Yakov's leg. The two men had to strain to hear the fragile whisper as he said, "I'm...not allowed...to have...a name."

Honda's eyes threatened to fall from his skull, his jaw hanging wide at the first words that fell from the boy's mouth since he was dug up. He looked from the boy to Yakov. Yakov caught is gaze and sighed.

"Who told you that?" Yakov asked. The boy flinched. "Who told you, you couldn't have a name?"

The blanket slid down the boy's trembling shoulders. His fingers crushed the fabric of Yakov's pants in his hands. Had Honda not been present, Yakov surely would have collapsed from the trembling bony arms clinging to him.

The boy hiccuped, tears staining his pants as he croaked, "I can't...remember. I'm just not...supposed to have one."

Yakov's heart sank with him as he knelt to the boy's level.

"I don't know who told you that. And I don't know why," Yakov said. "All I know is that the person who told you that isn't here. You can give yourself any name you want here and no one will take it from you."

The boy's trembling stopped. Honda and Yakov held their breath, fearing the boy might have lost his, until he looked up. His glassy, azure eye blinked up at them both, his bottom lip shaking as he whispered, "You won't?"

Yakov glanced at Honda then back at the boy before saying, "We won't. Now, do you have a name boy?"

The boy's eye widened as if they had offered him the moon. His tongue curled in on itself, his mind wracking around his mind. He grasped Yakov's pants leg again and gasped excitedly, "V-Viktor! My name...is Viktor!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. :)


End file.
